


Carry on

by the_authors_exploits



Series: Feeds on the ego, Swallows the pain [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: Carrying, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Jason is loving the attention, batbros, because dick has decided jason is pocket sized
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 14:03:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21254552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_authors_exploits/pseuds/the_authors_exploits
Summary: Jason doesn't know what's going on, but apparently Dick thinks he's portable. A portable brother.





	Carry on

Dinah comes to talk to Jason shortly after Dick asks her to; she comes to say hello to the old titans too, get introduced to Kori and Rachel and Gar. But she spends a fair amount of time with Jason; they spar, they go for a nice long walk in a nearby park, Jason introduces Dinah to one of his favorite video games.

She approaches Dick later on, a day before she’s to head back to Star City, face set seriously and Dick waves a hand at the chair across from him. She sits down heavily and leans close. “I think your father has an odd knack for picking out the most broken boys and trying to fix them.”

“I wasn’t broken,” Dick squeaks and Dinah smiles softly.

“No, but cracked at least; Jason’s not broken either. That was a poor choice of words; but he’s hurting, Dick.”

He nods; he knows she’s not going to divulge secrets, but she’s still going to set Dick on the right path to help the kid.

“I can guess what he’s been through,” she continues. “But I don’t have to guess at what he needs right now; he needs your support. You don’t realize how much he looks up to you, do you?”

Dick thinks about their first meeting; hindsight gives him clarity, and he remembers how excited the kid had been. Bouncing on his toes, offering a fist bump, running off and leaping to touch the ceiling of the parking garage. All jittery bravado, his nonchalance about secrets and ideas, trying to impress. “I can imagine.”

Dinah breaks into a slow grin. “How much has he confided in you?”

Shame flushes his cheeks and he turns his attention down to the coffee in front of him. “That’s a touchy subject; Bruce has a file on him.”

“Of course he does; and you read it?”

Dick doesn’t have to confirm that; Dinah sighs, fluffs her long hair.

“Does Jason know?”

He nods.

“And, how did he take it?”

“He was upset; and I apologized. I should’ve handled it better, should have talked to him first. So I gave him a chance to tell me what he was comfortable with.”

“I’m not going to ask what he told you, but like I said I can guess.”

He wants to say  _ I doubt it _ . Not even he could have guessed what he learned…

“The kid doesn’t know much about kindness, but he craves it. It’s hard to tell when he wants it or when he doesn’t.” So she’s noticed his fickle aversion to touch too, the way he shies away from the team yet still reaches out for a fist bump or a ‘bro hug’ from Gar after a sparring session. “But if you think he’s okay with it, give it. I know that’s not going to be hard for you, you give hugs like they’re free candy.”

“They are,” he jokes and Dinah laughs.

“Just go at his pace; he’s eager to make you--and your father--proud, which seems to make him hesitant to reach out to you. Ask for help, advice, support; maybe take the initiative. Make sure you don’t make it sound like you’re questioning his abilities, but frame it in a way that he can accept.” Dinah stands, pushes her chair back in place. “He’s a complicated kid, but all the good ones are.”

\--+--

“Alfred says Assassin’s Creed is violent.”

Dick hums; there’s a pan of eggs sizzling in front of him, bacon cooling off on a plate next to him, and he swats Jason’s hand when he tries to swipe a slice. “Just wait five more minutes!”

Jason’s foot bangs against the cupboard and he pouts. “I just want to whet my appetite.”

He chooses to not comment on the kid’s vernacular, no doubt something he’s picked up from said butler. “You were talking about Alfred’s distaste in your choice of video games.”

Jason clicks his fingers together. “Oh yeah! He says Assassin’s Creed is too violent--he does know we fight crime, right?”

“Sometimes I wonder if he thinks that’s a concept and not actual criminals we punch nightly.”

Dick realizes the oatmeal could use some brown sugar; he goes for the cupboard, realizes Jason is in the way. It’s too early to deal with this properly--whoever wakes up first has to make breakfast for the rest of the Tower; Dick thinks this agreement was entrapment, seeing as how he, and now Jason, are always the first ones awake--so Dick grabs Jason under his arms and hefts him to the side. He opens the right cupboard and extracts the sugar container.

“What else does Alfred think you shouldn’t be playing?” Dick spoons the sugar out, stirring it into the oatmeal, and he shuffles the eggs so they don’t burn. “Jay? Did you fall asleep over there?”

He has not fallen asleep; instead he’s staring slack jawed at Dick, eyes wide with furrowed brow. Dick blinks owlishly.

“What?”

“Did you just...fucking  _ pick me up _ ?”

He blinks again; thinking back, he supposes he did pick the kid up. Dick shrugs and decides the eggs are done but the oatmeal still needs a bit more time. “Guess I did, yeah.”

Jason’s brows stay furrowed. He squeaks out, “Don’t...don’t do that again?” It’s not quite a request but not quite a reprimand either; it’s a confused question, like he can’t quite decide if he should be alarmed or pleased.

Which is the only reason Dick does it again.

\--+--

That’s only partially true; Dick moves Jason out of the way because it’s convenient. He’s small enough that Dick can pluck him up and move him out of the way; it’s easier than asking him to move too, because then he gets cheeky and plays games. Settling in more, digging into wherever he’s perched, waggling his eyebrows and daring Dick to do something.

So Dick does; he grabs Jason around the middle or under his pits and plops him down out of the way. Like an unruly cat. Funny thing is, the kid reacts like one too. His shoulders arch up, head dipping down, sometimes pouting a glare and Dick wishes he was better at taking subtle pictures like Alfred. The butler would probably kill--not really--for sweet pictures like that.

The good thing is that his arched shoulders aren’t that of stress; rather, they seem to be to hide a sudden smirk or a blush at the tips of his ears. Dick takes that as a win; maybe he belongs on Jason’s list of approved people who can invade his personal space. It’s a nice thought.

\--+--

This night is no different; the team has piled into the dining room for team game night and Jason has been killed during Werewolf, alongside Rachel and Hank. Unfortunately for Dick, in his boredom Jason has confiscated the bowl of M&Ms and apparently is experimenting with how many he can fit in his mouth at a time. Rachel frowns in disgust at him, and Gar is not so subtly begging the rest to kill him--clearly so he can join in on Jason’s antics.

Dick, however, would like to indulge in the little chocolate candies; he stands to get a refill of Root Beer. Food is already dangerous enough at the table, let alone liter soda bottles.

“I still say it’s Dawn; she’s being way too suspicious.”

Dick fills his cup, sets it down at his seat, and then moves Jason to his abandoned seat; he takes Jason’s now vacant chair, taking control of the candy bowl, and pops a handful in his mouth. Everyone’s too distracted throwing accusations to notice. “I think it’s you, Donna.”

“Well I think someone just stole my candy!” Jason has his arms crossed.

Dick holds up a finger to shush him. “You’re dead.”

Gar has shuffled down his seat. “I don’t want to die anymore; please don’t kill me tonight.”

Jason gulps loudly and Dick does a double take, realizing he left his soda in front of Jason; the teenager raises his brows in a show of innocence, still gulping the soda down, and Dick shakes his head.

“I’m disappointed in you.”

Jason sets the cup down loudly, sighing and burping to add dramatic affect, and Gar throws his card face up on the table.

“I killed myself.” he makes grabby hands at the candy bowl. “Gimme, Dick!”

Dick pushes the bowl away and Gar starts stuffing his face. “I’m surrounded by children.”

\--+--

Dick comes home from a Bludhaven case to Jason lounging in his room; the kid juts his chin out in acknowledgement of Dick’s presence, tapping buttons on his handheld.

“How was ‘haven?”

Dick sets his dufflebag down and stretches out sore muscles; a hand presses into a knot in his opposite shoulder and he toes his boots off. They land...somewhere. “Fine; how was the Tower?”

Jason shrugs. “Fine,” he monotones, which roughly translates into boring.

Dick goes for a shower; he takes his time, letting the water relax tense muscles, and when he gets out the mirror is all fogged up. He tosses on a pair of sweats and leaves the room; Jason is still slouched on his bed, still tapping away at whatever he’s playing. Dick hooks a hand around Jason’s arm and one around his knee, hefting him up and dropping him over a few inches.

“Hey!” Jason calls out; a halfhearted glare is shot Dick’s way but he’s nonplussed. “You gotta stop doing that, man. I’m fifteen!”

“And the size of a baby.” Dick pokes his head over Jason’s shoulder. “What’re you playing?”

“Breath of the Wild.” Link glides through the air in an array of bright colors. “You know, Legend of Zelda?”

“Pff, know it? It was my favorite growing up!”

Jason hums; he blows a bubble with his gum--where did he get gum from? Dick pokes his nail in it and watches as it deflates in satisfaction. Jason jolts, glares, and Dick laughs. “I was always more into Pokemon.”

“‘Course you were.”

He puts the Switch to the side, eyes wide. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a nerd, Jason.”

“So are you!”

“Zelda is so less nerd culture than Pokemon; it’s, like, geek culture or something.”

Jason huffs a laugh. “No, it’s not! It’s all nerd culture!”

“But where does it end, Jason? At what point are you not a nerd?”

Jason grins triumphantly. “Once a nerd, always a nerd, big bird!”

\--+--

Dick measures out the medicine; he puts the bottle down and walks out into the living room. He holds it out.

“Here,” he coaxes. “This should help make you feel better.”

“Is it grape flavored?”

He rolls his eyes; why does he have to have such an obnoxious brother? “No, Jason, it’s not grape flavored; besides, you aren’t even the one taking the medication!”

Rachel glares out from the bundle of blankets Kori insisted was a necessity; her cheeks are flushed with fever, nose irritated red, but her glare is just as startling and Jason pulls a pillow up between him and her anger. As if that will protect him from her wrath.

“Don’t smite me, girl, and take your damn medicine!”

Rachel does swallow the medicine, throwing a disgusted look out across the room, and Dick exchanges the medicine cup with a cup of Kori’s tea. Rachel accepts it eagerly; Jason has started flipping through the TV channels and Dick figures he can waste a few hours watching Cake Wars. Now to decide whether to sit next to the germ bundle that is Rachel or push Jason aside and take his spot.

Forget that there’s a perfectly empty couch, or a handful of empty armchairs scattered around the room; Jason’s couch is the most comfortable, so Dick shoves the kid upright and rearranges the pillows, lets him flop back against him.

“We’re watching Cake Wars.”

“No,” Jason argues, “We’re watching Criminal Minds.”

“I wanna watch Adventure Time.”

Jason puts the TV on Cartoon Network. “I can accept that, Rach.”

Rachel doesn’t last through half of the first episode; she passes out, slouched against the arm rest and curled under many a blanket. Dick purposefully doesn’t draw attention to the way Jason presses into his shoulder, nor when he falls asleep into 3 episodes of Adventure Time.

Finally, Dick can watch Cake Wars--if he can just get the remote from Jason’s grasp!

\--+--

Monopoly was a worse idea for game night than Uno was; everyone is way too competitive and at least the only frustrations with Uno were the strange rules Gar insisted upon playing with. (Who wants to have 7 switch a pair of hands? And 0 makes everyone swap hands in a circle… No one should ever play by those rules!)

Hank and Jason have been stuck in a bidding war for Wayne Manor for going on 6 minutes now, and Rachel is still paying back a loan to the bank, and Donna owes double the rent on one of Kori’s apartment buildings for whatever reason. Gar made some poor investments and is already out of the game.

Dick just wants to play his turn.

“No, the manor is worth more than that offer.” Jason points at the railroads, all of which Hank has control of. “Gimme all the trains and the $1000, and I might consider giving you Wayne Manor.”

“I’m not giving you the trains!”

“Then you don’t get Wayne Manor.”

Hank counts out some more money. “What about this? And you can get 22 Broadway Place.”

“Nope; trains or no deal.”

“Jason,” Dick pinches his nose. “I will literally give you all of my land and money to just give him the manor.”

Jason eyes him dubiously. “Dick, that’s our legacy! You’d just readily hand it over?”

“To get you to stop? Yes.”

Insult paints Jason’s face and Hank offers half of the train tracks to the kid. At the end of the game, Dick and Rachel forfeited and Jason eventually lost Wayne Manor to Donna; Kori leaves the table victorious and Dawn pats Hank on the shoulder.

“You were smart,” Dick calls to Dawn. “You refused to play.”

She smiles softly. “After Uno? I’d rather just observe; much more fun.”

Jason is frowning down at the board. “How did I lose? I had Wayne Manor!”

Dick stands, hesitates before hiking Jason over his shoulder. “Come on, we’ll go get Scrabble and you can kick all our asses at it.”

He throws his fist in the air, one finger directed at Hank. “Fuck yeah! You’ll get your comeuppance, Hall!”

“I didn’t even win,” the man laments and Donna smirks at the brothers retreating back.

\--+--

Jason has decided that Dick is cool; he always knew the old Robin was awesome, and Dick outside of uniform is pretty awesome too. He’s always calm and collected, level headed, even when he’s not; he calms Jason too, all the nervous energy gets sapped out of him and Jason feels like he can breathe. Like the weight is pulled off his chest, like insects aren’t constantly crawling along the sinews of his muscles, like the black hole in his stomach doesn’t exist.

Jason...likes that feeling. It’s nice that Dick is his brother--and even that shoots an excited bolt down his spine; he has a brother, a family! An actual family, one who actually takes the time to look out for him. He’s never had that before, and it’s goddamn nice. Warm, fuzzy… If anyone were to voice that he’d deny everything, but shit is it nice to belong.

He knows he’s fucked up from everything that happened--he had an abnormal childhood, filled with fear and pain, and he knows he came out...wrong… Gotham does that to people.

He knows it’s not normal for a fifteen year old to wish their guardian would sit with them until they fall asleep. Knows it’s not normal for a teenager to want hugs and damn cuddles, the softest of touches with no strings attached, nothing required in return.

But that’s just the way Dick is; he doesn’t ask for anything in return, not for sparring early in the morning or giving advice when on a mission. He’s encouraging and kind, even when he tells Jason it’s his time to lead the Titans, to be someone they can follow and rely on.

So when Dick starts  _ picking him up _ and moving him elsewhere, something short circuits in his brain. He glows at the attention, but shrinks at the sudden and strange interaction; he’s fifteen. It’s not...normal to be plucked and moved about. He barely remembers his mother carrying him as a kid, has clear memories of his father’s large and strong hands bruising him.

But Dick moves him again, and calls Jason the size of a baby; it’s endearing, and Jason lets it slide.

He comes barreling into the living room, half out of breath, and scuttles over to wrap himself around Dick’s side; Dick jolts, gives him a questioning look. He returns it with a lopsided grin, clutching at his sweatshirt in desperation.

“If anyone asks, I’ve been with you all day.”

“What did you do?”

His grin widens as the sound of stomping feet comes from down the hallway; he ducks closer, digging himself in deeper. “Nothing; I’ve been with you all day!”

Dawn enters the living area and Dick quickly averts his gaze back down to his tablet, biting his lip and coughing to keep from laughing. She stands with her hands on her hip, bright pink hair tossed over her shoulder and still dripping wet. “Jason,” she chastises softly. “You put hair dye in my shampoo, didn’t you?”

“No,” Jason responds; his voice lilts on the word, a sarcastic lie. “I’ve been with Dick all day; right, bro?” It tumbles out his mouth and he hopes the embarrassed flush doesn’t reach his ears.

Dick gives a noncommittal hum, nodding along disinterestedly, and scrolls down the news page. “Uh-huh, sure.”

Dawn frowns at Dick. “Dick.”

He breaks under her scrutinizing disappointment. “He literally just arrived, but it’s a good color on you!”

Jason pouts. “Hey, I thought we had a deal.”

Dick ruffles his hair as Dawn leaves the room to dry her hair. “Sorry; she gets under my skin when she expresses disappointment like that.”

Jason shifts to glance at the screen. “What’re you reading?”

“Some tabloid about Bruce’s new kid; they apparently think he’s Bruce’s illegitimate biological son.”

Jason hums; there’s a blurry picture from when Bruce went to a school function, Jason making a face and Bruce smiling fondly. “I look nothing like Bruce.”

“I dunno.” Dick tips his head to the side to see the picture at a different angle, ends up pressing his cheek against Jason’s gelled hair. “I think you look like his twin.”

He scoffs; he scrolls down the page and scans for his name anywhere. “They still don’t know my name; how long before you started popping up in the news and magazines?”

“Oh within a week of Bruce taking me in; but you gotta remember, I was the first one he adopted. He had very little experience about keeping things hush hush.” Dick tips the tablet so Jason can have better access to it. “Now he’s pretty good at keeping secrets.”

He hums again; he digs his chin against the fatty part of Dick’s arm. Not that the guy has a lot of fat. “Can we go out? I’m bored.”

“I think you need a new sweater anyways.” Dick pats at his head, shifts him to stand--moving him again, settling him on his feet. “Come on, there’s some shops down the road.”

\--+--

The paparazzi is out in droves today, which is oddly appropriate considering their recent conversation. Dick is showing off a jacket that’s got a colorful skull on the back of it, bones down the arm, that he thinks Jason would like when the first photographer finds them; one minute Jason’s cracking a joke, and the next there’s a stranger shoving a camera in his face and the poor kid jumps out of his skin.

“You’re Bruce’s new ward, right? Hey, Richard, what’s it like having another kid at the house?”

Jason ducks behind Dick, who is happy to put himself between the camera and his little brother; just like Bruce, he’s got a lot of experience over the years and dealing with stranger’s trying to get up in their business is one. He shuffles them out of Old Navy, walking down the crowded mall halls.

“No comment,” he says, wrapping his arm around Jason. “We’re just out shopping. Please leave us alone.”

When the second, third, and fourth photographer comes out of the woodwork Jason flips his hood up; he’s shaking the slightest bit, rubbing at his wrists from nervous energy. Dick ducks down to talk to him.

“Hey, it’s okay; we’re gonna go back to the tower, okay?”

“Richard, what are you doing out of Bludhaven?”

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Hey, kid, who was your mom?”

“Did Bruce have relations with your mom?”

“When will people be introduced to you?”

Dick throws his arm up when one of the camera men bumps into Jason; he shoots the man a glare. “Come on, dude, he’s just a kid; let us go home.”

“What’s it like being a ward of Bruce Wayne? Do you like living in the manor?”

“Rumor has it you came from the slums; is that true?”

Jason is very uncomfortable surrounded by strangers trying to pry into his life; he shifts and climbs atop Dick’s back, holding tight to the older man. Dick accepts his weight and pushes through the crowd with ease; Jason hides his face against Dick’s shoulder as they move, mumbling  _ “we’re a fucking bulldozer like this” _ and Dick huffs a laugh.

\--+--

It evolves from Dick taking the initiative in moving Jason, to Jason deciding Dick is his personal pack mule.

Dick is walking down the hallway from the gym to the shower room, talking absently with Hank about the new Mission Impossible movie, when Jason suddenly leaps out from the shadows; he latches to Dick like a limpet to a tree. Legs twisted around Dick’s waist, arms tight around his throat, phone in hand and chin pressing deep into Dick’s shoulder.

“Kitchen,” is all Jason says, scrolling through a website of puns. “I want chocolate milk.”

Dick momentarily stumbles under the added weight, but he handles it well. He repositions himself on his feet, tugs lightly on Jason’s wrist to get him to loosen his grip, and rolls his eyes towards Hank. “Help me.”

Hank holds his hands up. “He’s not my little brother.”

Jason kicks his legs like a cowboy getting his horse to move. “Kitchen; chocolate milk.”

As much as a shower would be nice right now, Dick knows how stubborn Jason can be; it’s chocolate milk or never getting rid of his new parasite. Dick waves goodbye to Hank and turns towards the kitchen; Jason chuckles at something on his phone.

“Light travels faster than sound; that’s why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.”

Dick huffs; he grabs a glass from the cupboard, Jason still attached to his back, and takes the jug of chocolate milk from the fridge. Kori watches in bewildered amusement from her perch at the counter; Dick eyes her briefly, pouring the milk into the cup.

“Hello, Jason; Dick.”

Jason waves absently, pointing at the cup. “Dick’s getting me chocolate milk.”

“I see that.”

Jason finally raises his gaze and squints at Kori. “Have you ever considered dying your hair pink?”

“No,” Dick interjects. “You are not dying anyone else’s hair; here.” Dick holds up the cup and Jason jumps from his back, taking the glass and sauntering out of the kitchen.

“Thanks, bro!”

Kori shoots Dick an amused look, and he rolls his eyes in response, putting the jug away. “He’s insufferable.”

“But you love him.”

He doesn’t deny that, but he does question it when he exits the shower to find his hair dyed as bright blue as his Nightwing costume.


End file.
